


In and Out of Time

by My_Darkest_Darling



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes Returns, Bucky Barnes-centric, Essentially this is just a ball of feels and sadness, Feels, Hidden Relationship, Hope too, I don't know, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, don't hate me, mentions of torture, pre bucky barnes/tony stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 17:25:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5793394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Darkest_Darling/pseuds/My_Darkest_Darling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their relationship had never been a simple one, but James had always loved Stevie. He just didn't like to think about how much, or why. Stevie was home, that's all there was to it. Steve had always been home for him.  Years pass, though, and things have changed more than either of them had ever imagined. Bucky can't help but wonder if he can still find his way home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In and Out of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know that I'm a completely terrible person who should be updating my other story, but this plot bunny ran away with me, and I'm sorry to all my darling Sherlockians who are waiting for the next chapter of 'Patience'.
> 
> This is essentially just something that kept me from sleeping until I wrote it down. Sorry for any errors, I don't have a beta and would definitely appreciate it if you would politely point out any errors to me. Also, constructive criticism on how to write these characters would be greatly appreciated! This is my first time writing for this fandom, so I'm really nervous about it.
> 
> I'm thinking of continuing this with an OT3 thing, but I'm not sure yet. Steve/Tony/Bucky. Tell me what you think!

Just what did Steve Rogers mean to him? Bucky didn't like to think about it if he could help it, didn't really know the answer outside of a bold lettered and all encompassing ' _ **EVERYTHING**_ '. He didn't like to dwell on what that meant, why all those pretty dames never lasted, why he'd rather end up in a fight for his scrawny best friend than meet up with a girl for some fun, why the best memories he ever had were of Stevie and his scraped up skin and his baby blue eyes. He didn't like to think about just how wrong it was for him to feel the way he did about Steve when all he was supposed to be doing was protecting him. However, he couldn't always help it.

 

Some days, when he was just half asleep and Stevie was curled up next to him, close enough to feel his warmth, but not touching, Bucky wondered what it would be like to reach out and pull him in: Not in the platonic, 'let me warm your skinny ass up to keep you from getting sick', sort of way, like he usually did. But in the way he held his gals, like a lover. Limbs intertwined, that blonde head resting on his chest, Bucky's nose buried in his hair and his eyes shut tight in contentment. He wondered, all the time, just how it would feel, how Stevie would react. Then, as the older man slowly rose to consciousness, he would instantly feel guilty, because who in the hell thought of their male best friend like that?

 

James knew what being queer was, everyone did. It was supposed to be a sickness, something screwed up in your head. Bucky didn't think he was a queer, didn't think of other men like that. It was just Steve, had always been Steve. Since they were teenagers together, Bucky had been thinking of him in a way that most would consider wrong. He'd wondered, when it was just him on his own, or when Steve was fast asleep, what it would be like to kiss him. He wondered if his lips would be as soft as they looked, soft like a girl's, or if kissing Steve would be something different all together. He wondered if Steve would kiss him back, if he would know what to do with himself at all. Even through his guilt, James would always smirk at that. No, probably not, but it made the man somewhat relieved to think that no one else had gotten to kiss that boy, to hold him. The knowledge made him unreasonably happy.

 

He knew it was wrong, knew that he should just keep his mind off of it, and God how he tried. But nothing seemed to work. With every fight Bucky broke up, with every night they slept in their bed together, with every time Steve had to lean on him, it seemed to get harder to ignore. Eventually, Bucky resigned himself to the fact that those feelings for his friend just weren't going to go away, no matter how wrong they were, no matter how desperately he wished. And, even more so, Bucky decided he would be able to cope with that just fine, as long as Stevie never found out.

 

* * *

 

 

It was more difficult after the war had started, after Steve of all people unexpectedly came and rescued him from what Bucky had thought for sure would be his end. He was so much different than Bucky had remembered him, and yet.... yet, here it was, everything Bucky had always known Steve to be, on display for the rest of the world. Inspiration, kindness, bravery, all the beautiful, wonderful traits he had always seen in his friend, now everyone else saw them too. Maybe it wasn't so bad, but now Bucky was almost jealous that he had to share all of that with the rest of the world.

 

He was livid, of course, when Stevie told him everything, but he was happy for his friend, and he told him as much. What he didn't tell him was how greatly Steve's altered physicality and new-found confidence was affecting him. Before, any real physical desire for his friend was held back by the knowledge of how frail Steve was, how easy he bruised, how sick he could get. But now... God, he missed his scrawny little punk, but now James knew he couldn't hurt Steve if he tried, and something about that knowledge was unbelievably thrilling.

 

Of course, it didn't help his issues any when he saw the looks that Steve received from any of the women they came across. The tables had turned, as Steve was so fond of reminding him, but that wasn't what had Bucky so riled. No, it was jealousy, plain and pure. He tried not to let it show, though, and did a fairly good job of it. It helped that Steve didn't really react to the flirting, to the glances. It really, really helped.

 

Still, it ate at him, this  _thing_ that he wanted so desperately not to feel. He hated being so jealous, wanting Steve like he did. He hated that he couldn't tell his friend because of how wrong it was. He hated that his love for Stevie, which had always been there, had grown into what everyone else would see as twisted. He hated it so much.

 

After a while, it was just too much. 

 

One night, Bucky, Steve, and the rest of their crew were eating, making jokes, telling stories, passing time. They did it all the time, it was nothing new. But then they started in on Steve about some dame he must have had his eye on, because "Captain America has ta' have a girl!" And Steve went all red, blushing as he spoke, denying it at first, then slowly opening up about this real beauty he had met back in Brooklyn.

 

"Has the biggest, prettiest blue eyes. I always felt like I could drown in 'em," he had said, and Bucky clenched his fists, trying to smile and laugh with the rest of the men. "And hair so dark, almost like soot, makes ... makes her eyes stand out so bright. Bit of a brat, though, really, for how pretty she is. . But I loved it, the attitude. Talks down to ya like no one else, I swear. Always real sweet when you really needed it, though. I'm hopin' I can finally turn her head now."

 

His eyes lit up when he spoke about this girl and it made Bucky so angry, because who was this woman? She would never have looked twice at Stevie before, had never looked twice at him if the Captain was to be believed, and it hurt. Bucky had been there the whole time, had loved Stevie the whole time. That girl didn't deserve Steve, not if she couldn't have seen him, couldn't have wanted him how he was before. When Steve was finished talking and the guys had finished teasing him, Bucky couldn't help it. He grabbed Steve's arm.

 

"Hey, Stevie, can I talk to you back at our tent for a second? It's private, you know?" His palms were sweating and his heart was beating like mad, his brain screaming at him. What the hell was he thinking? What was he doing? He was going to ruin everything! And still, Bucky didn't bite his tongue, didn't take it back. He just waited while Steve gave him a concerned look, waited until he agreed, then they walked back to their shared tent in silence, James refusing to let himself think about what would happen next. 

 

As soon as the tent's flap swung shut behind them, Bucky was facing Steve and the words were pouring out so fast that he couldn't have stopped them if he wanted to. "Stevie, there's something I really need to tell you," he started. "And it's gonna sound crazy, but I swear it's not like it seems... no, it's probably exactly like it seems. But I want you to know it's always been like this, it isn't just some new thing 'cause you got bigger or anythin', and I know you're probably gonna hate me, but I-"

 

Steve cut him off. "Hey, whoa, wait," he said with a confused laugh, his hands on Bucky's shoulders as though to steady him. "Hey, calm down Buck. I don't hate you. How could I ever hate you." He chuckled nervously. "Jeez, Bucky, what's gotten into you tonight?"

 

He was so concerned, so kind, so innocent, it almost made Bucky mad. He scrambled for the words that had come so easily before, but they were no where to be found. "Aw, fuck it," he growled, glaring at his toes. He'd never really been good with words when it came to Stevie anyway. He looked back up at his friend, into that kind face that had hardly changed, and made his choice. Getting things out in the open would hardly hurt any worse than bottling it all up. So, with a deep breath, he brought a hand up to the back of Steve's neck and yanked the other man to him, their lips practically crushing together.

 

 

For what seemed like ages, Steve was stock still and dead silent. Panic began to well up in him and he moved to pull back, to explain himself, to try and fix what he could. But then a slightly shaking hand was cupping his cheek, gently but firmly keeping him close, while clumsy lips slotted themselves more fully over his own.  James was frozen with shock. How could this even be possible? Then, he was kissing back, guiding Steve through it, getting a better angle, kissing him like he'd dreamed of doing. His lips were soft, yes, though a bit chapped from the weather, and he was just as inexperienced as Bucky had always thought he would be. It made him smile into the tender exchange.

 

After a long while, he pulled away, a breathless laugh leaving him. "Was that your first kiss, punk?" He asked, hinting at teasing, not sure what else to day. "'Cause you definitely need some practice if that's all you got."

 

Steve looked up from his shoes, cheeks and ears tinged a pretty pink, a smile twitching at his lips. "Like you did much better, jerk," he retaliated, and Bucky's chest felt a thousand times lighter from that endearment alone. 

 

They laughed together, both of them shaking lightly from the relief. Another kiss followed the first, then two, then three, before Bucky finally pulled away, saying that they need to talk. "So this... this isn't just me? I mean, what about that girl back home you were talkin' about?"

 

Steve had pressed his forehead to Bucky's, eyes twinkling with mirth. "No, it's definitely not just you," he said happily. "And that dame back home... all made up. Based on you, of course, but still." His voice went soft and he drew back just enough to search Bucky's eyes, smiling in slight relief. "You know, the first time I ever noticed your eyes were blue... God, that took my breath away. I mean, you always took my breath away, but that..." He laughed a little. "I'm glad for this, that's happened to me, especially since I can appreciate you fully now."

 

Bucky had chuckled and shook his head, ears turning pink, though the darkness hid it well. He never thought he'd hear this sort of talk from Steve, not about him. "I liked you just as well before that serum, doll," he said, voice teasing, but expression serious. "I've always thought the world of you."

 

And just like that, everything fell into place.  They hid it, of course, because they knew none of the others would understand, and their superiors would not be lenient. But still, it was nice, and they were so happy.  Nothing progressed beyond a few heated kisses, and Bucky got to hold Steve when they slept like he'd always wanted to, though he was much bigger now, and certainly more than capable of keeping himself warm. They thought that surely, they could make it through the war with each other, like this.

 

Then, Bucky died. At least, that's what everyone else thought had happened to him. James only wished that it had. Anything would have been better than what he really went through, beaten and tortured until he was locked in a cage inside his own head, unable to reach the rest of himself, going mad while his body and mind were taken over by someone else. It was hell, and it was too painful to fight. Eventually, he couldn't do it anymore. He just... went to sleep, and let the rest of him do as they wished it to.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

If he had been the only one left, it never would have happened. But out of seemingly nowhere a voice, soft and familiar, pushed through the walls that had been built up around his cage and roused him slowly from his slumber. ' _Stevie?!'_ But no, Steve was dead, gone. So was he, really. So why...?

It would take Bucky what felt like ages to get through to himself enough to know it was true. The Asset warred with him as he began to wake, confused and angry, but Bucky fought back. He had to get back to his friend, had to wake up now that there was a home to go back to. Stevie was his home. But The Asset would not let him win, not without reassurance that it would not be punished for such a failure, not without orders to stand down. After the battle with Steve, the Asset was more wild than ever, having failed his mission, having no handlers coming after him, no where to turn. Though it took weeks, months even, the soldier became weak, and Bucky managed to break him down just enough to regain control of himself. 

 

He was lost, though, so lost. It wasn't like flipping a switch and he was back to his old self. Not even close. Somewhere along the way, James had vanished underneath all the rubble and chaos of his mind, and it wasn't easy to come back from that. His memories were clashing with those of the Winter Soldier, reality and fantasy all blurring together. He didn't know who he was anymore. But he knew one person who did, and he had to get back to him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Slowly but surely, Bucky found his way back to Steve. His training as The Asset had paid off in that sense, at least. He had no trouble tracking down the Captain, no trouble finding him. The trouble was in approaching him. Bucky watched for a while, saw how Steve lived and who he lived with. Memories that didn't feel like his came rushing back at him, of the Widow and their fights, of Tony Stark's parents, a broken windshield spattered with red. Days passed with him just watching, needing to figure out how they'd react to him, if he would be able to get through to Steve, to himself. There was no knowing without trying, though, so he just went for it.

 

Four months, three weeks, and two days after his last mission was abandoned, Bucky let himself into the tower. It wasn't all that hard, and he knew enough from watching that the building had likely already alerted it's occupants to his entry. He didn't care. He stood in the grand entry way, still and silent, eyes staring straight ahead. He didn't have to wait for long. 

 

He could hear people flying down the stairs, could hear people talking in  rushed and confused tones, and he forced himself not to react, staring straight ahead even as the Widow confronted him, as Stark flew around the corner. He waited until Steve entered the room. Then he drew his gun, slowly, free hand up in surrender, and held it out in offering to the familiar man. His voice was raw from disuse when he spoke, his words stiff and broken, though he didn't know what else to say. "Reporting for decommissioning, sir," he said as softly as he could. It felt so wrong to say, especially to Steve, but it ha been drilled into his head for so long that he didn't know what else there was.

 

A sad smile twitched onto Steve's lips and the man took the gun from his hand, letting it fall to the ground. "My God, Bucky," he breathed. Then, James found himself enveloped in Steve's arms for the first time in what felt like eternity and he melted into it, unable to hold back the shudders that ran through him, the tears that stung his eyes, hot and unfamiliar. He didn't embrace Steve in return, but rather leaned all of his weight on the other man and hid his face in Steve's shoulder. "It's okay, Buck, you're home now. I've got you, you're home." He was home.


End file.
